Still in my Fluffoughts
Kiku Honda was just another hardworking, stubborn and lonely young man of Japan with geeky interests, slaving in his job to be able to support himself. But one day, his more successful and concerned western friends give him an invitation to a upperclass and fancy ball across the seas! Will this lonely, content, shy and stubborn young man ever find love...? Human AU / Love Triangle.
(I swear, i think i'm obsessed with this song now.)
Ah, hello guys! I was indcredibly happy when you all reviewed. It may not be much, but i was AMAZED... but at the same time confused. "Why do you like this? I'm a terrible writer! Is everyone insane? Maybe the world IS going to end!" Hahah. But i have to say, i squealed like a little bietch and flail-gasmed all around my room out of happiness. (When i was supposed to be in bed...)
So here ya' go... Chapter 2! I do hope you all enjoy it. *bows* I think i may've improved just a tiny bit. A tiny, tiny bit.
Pairing: AsaKiku + Ameripan Love Triangle.
Warning: First-time fanfiction. Human AU. Cosplay. Contains BoyXBoy. Rating may or may not change in future chapters.
I do not own any of the characters, songs, or anything else. I own nothing, people!
Chapter 2
He stared into his own reflection in the elegant, glistening mirror in his mansion bedroom. He adjusted his black tie and brushed his wheat blonde hair out of his deep forest green eyes.
This party is ridiculous... I could be drinking tea and reading a book.
"Mon Dieu, Arthur, where are you?" A familiar flambouyant french accent echoed from the hallway. Just as Arthur was going to respond, he heard a loud thud, and an upset frenchman. "AGH! Merde! Stupid table. Who puts a table in the middle of a hallway anyway? This crazy old brit..."
Arthur sighed irritably to himself as he detached from his reflection to check if the french ditz was causing trouble. Arthur stepped around his large exquisite bed and clean and neat antique desk and drawers out into the hallway, only to give a small chuckle when he caught Francis rubbing his hurt foot.
"Having difficulties, frog?"
"Absolutely not... just banged my foot on your peice of crap furniture!"
"That's not a peice of crap, it's an antique from the Victorian Era..." He continued, an satisfied smirk merges across his face, "The female cashier told me it draws in some of the most fearsome spirits..."
The british man gazes upon the craftily decorated table with incredible awe and majestic appretiation in his dark green eyes. Francis observed the british man's expression. Even though Arthur was incredibly irritating and stubborn, Francis still missed the times when the British bastard was at least a little bit happy, whether it was when he was with him, with someone else, or even spending his spare time drinking tea while reading a book surrounded by his beloved old furniture. Francis grinned to himself at the recollection of memories.
"...But anyways," Arthur interrupted, brow lifted with a scowl, "You ready to go yet, or are you not finished working on your hair, goldilocks?"
"Ahh, Always rude and superstitious as always, mmn?" The frenchman chuckled. He carefully set a sleek black beret atop his wavy angel-blonde head. Arthur looked at the french man up and down- head to toe.
Francis Bonnefoy, good friend and former ex-boyfriend, was wearing the beret a bit to the side, along with a thin matching black scarf around his neck, a patterned red and white vest, a white collared shirt undered a black coat, along with matching black shorts, white socks and black boots. Arthur didn't dare say it, but Francis did look really nice. ...For once.
"Oh, What is this? Are you 'checking me out?'" Francis caught Arthur's eyes and gave a smirk and a wink. Arthur just huffed and turned away- crossing his arms and fuming as always.
"Honhonhon, my, you're clothes look good too, I must say." Francis trailed off, gazing upon Arthur's black coat, tie, pants, boots-
"...Even though it looks like your going to a funeral, darling... Oh, But one moment, I have an idea!" Francis sets a black officer cap on top of Arthur's head. He pushed the hairs out of his eyes lightly with his broad fingers, and examined like Arthur did to him.
"Ah, much better! Now you look like a respectable gentleman." Francis pulled his arm around Arthur's shoulder -much to Arhur's disgust- and they proceeded down the stairs and out the large mansion doors, tripping many times on their way, and Arthur scolding Francis how he HAS ALWAYS BEEN a respectable gentleman, and Francis had NO idea what one was,"Even if it sat in his lap, slapped him and called him, 'Sweetheart!' "
"So who's staying at my mansion again? You never gave me a clear answer, damned frog."
Francis ignored the insult and responded crossing his legs and leaning against the black leather seats of the extravagant limosine. "Just some friends of ours. A few you may have yet to meet."
Arthur sneered at the frenchman. "I thought I asked for a clear answer?", obviously a command.
"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, Gilbert Beilschmidt..."
"Woah woah! Hey, your idiot friends? I know how much trouble you three cause together!"
"Calm yourself, cher. they're only staying for a few days. Antonio and Gil are both getting ready for vacation after the party. Don't ask me where- you know how they are, those carefree delinquents!"
"And you're, what, the responsible and hard working one?" Arthur chuckled. "Hard to believe. I mean c'mon, really."
"I know, i'm always drowned in work! No one ever appreciates or praises me- so unloved!" Francis lifted his hand to his forehead and gave a dramatic look of extreme sorrow.
"...Ehem, But anyways, Where was I? Oh yes, Ludwig, my cute cousin Feli, his brother and my less cute cousin Romano, Alfred..."
Arthur rolled his eyes at the name. Alfred P. Jones... Ever since his friend left him to go back to America after high school, he couldn't quite seem to act the same around that obnoxious loudmouth again. Alfred loved Arthur like a big brother, but Arthur's own feelings were not quite the same kind of love at that period of time. He liked him- maybe even loved him- but when Alfred left so swiftly, without nearly a simple goodbye, Arthur knew somewhere in his heart that Alfred never felt the same way. Arthur eventually got over Alfred, became friends again with Francis, and everything was fine again. The british man came to a conclusion that everything was better when Alfred wasn't around to make his heart accelerate, beating immensely... and then shatter, falling into small, tiny, miniscule little peices whenever Alfred pushed him away. Arthur felt better without him, but lost the ability and motivation to fall in love. He gave up with a patched-up heart, forever isolated and off-limited to whoever dared enter. It was poetic, really. But Oh, so very, very true, but Arthur refused to admit it.
"Something on your mind, dear?"
Francis interrupted Arthur's train of thought, looking up at him with a cute grin. Arthur sighed and returned his gaze towards the window. Francis probably knew exactly what he was thinking. It was annoying.
Arthur responded irritably after a moment of silence,"Well? Continue."
"Oh!" Francis hopped in his seat in remembrance. "You remember our dear friend Yao Wang, yes? It's been awhile. But I managed to get him to bring him his younger half-brother, Kiku Honda along."
"Hmm, Kiku? Sounds Japanese. I'm correct, yes?" Arthur pondered to himself, eyes sill glued to the blurred landscape in his tinted window. How did he ever gain such a wide range of friends...?
Francis nodded. "He's a quiet one, but not as quiet as Matthieu..." When Francis mentioned Matthew, Alfred's brother's name, he seemed to sigh a bit, swooning. "Kiku's also cute and modest as well. Such a pure heart, non?" He then chuckled to himself, rubbing his stubbled chin.
"Yes, whatever. Agh, so many people... If they break, stain or damage *anything* in my house at all, it's your fault. I didn't know anyone was ever STAYING in my house until you told me a few days ago."
"Well," Francis started, looking up into Arthur's eyes again, this time with a taunting grin, "I just assumed and invited them since I know how lovingly, err... sociable and ...friendly you are to everyone who is graced by your presence."
Francis Bonnefoy, gently rubbing his stinging cheek in pain, and a red-faced Arthur Kirkland exit the shining black limosine upon reaching to a stop at their destination. Visitors and other party members from every ethnic group anyone could think of has gathered into the tall building, or just lounging around the entrance, making themselves at home conversing with other strange races and cultures, eating gourmet hors' de vours and drinking glistening wine...
"Humph! Slap me and abuse me all you want, cher- but you needed this. You can't work for the rest of your life and keep your cold heart closed. You can't be alone forever~!" Arthur caught Francis giving him a pout, and elbowed the ridiculous french.
And to Arthur's dismay, knew Francis was right all along. But he would die a slow death before he would admit it.
...0
Kiku stepped out of the sleek black limo, gazing up curiously at the large building. It was towering several feet over him, and he couldnt help but inhale deeply in awe of the immensity of the place- it smelled like the rose bushes, lush and large surrounding the gate. Many handsome individuals strutted their way into the tall gates, a number of women dressed in dashing and expensive-looking clothing from their mother countries, chuckling and drinking wine in the large patio at the entrance. He saw a group of handsome Arab men stride by, wearing what seemed to be incredibly well made thawbs (1), along with ghutras (2) atop their slightly dark heads.
In this extravagant and high class antmosphere, Kiku couldn't help but remember his hole-in-the-wall apartment adorned with posters and knick-knacks, his cheap . He realized how out-of-place he really was here.
Kiku trailed his gaze to his left to see an incredibly large man, somewhere over six feet with a defined nose, light blonde hair and dark, intimidating violet eyes flashing toward his direction. He wore a long Russian military overcoat, a military officer hat... The one thing he wore that stood out the most was a long, flowing, faded rose-colored scarf he wore around his neck. He flashed Kiku a narrow glace and a slight nod. Kiku knew that the large man was just greeting him, but he couldnt help but feel that this guy was probably the last person he needed to meet- but then again, maybe he got that vibe from the other people who gaped at the russian with fearful eyes who've refused to walk anywhere near him, except for the three lads accompanying him... though they all looked equally scared out of their mind.
As Kiku was about to head towards the gate, away from the towering man, he heard a loud voice call his name. It sounded familiar, and incredibly... Oh, what's the best word to describe it?
"Yo, KIKU! 'Sup Dude, I thought you wouldn't come!"
...Ah, yes. American. Alfred jogged his way towards the Japanese. Kiku could've sworn for a second that Alfred was going in for a large hug, but then retreated his hands to his hips and laughed painfully loud, and Kiku could hear maybe a tad bit of nervousness along with it.
"Hello, Alfred-san." Kiku bowed and watched Alfred do the same. He then looked Alfred up and down- the blonde was wearing an authentic American winter officer's uniform from WWII. The dark jacket highlighted his muscled features, and the dulled colors emphasized his glistening golden blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Alfred flashed a wide grin, and Kiku jumped, then continued to stare at Alfred's handsome figure.
Alfred had apparently noticed this, and looked down at his shined shoes. "M-Man, aren't I glad that you came! I swear, I thought I would be stuck here with these snooty upper-class peeps with my brother all night! But Feliciano, Francis and Yao and everyone else is coming, huh? So maybe it wont be too boring after all...I mean, not that you don't..."
Alfred's sentence trailed off to just a quiet stream of nonsense as he looked back up and noticed Kiku's wardrobe. A black and gold japanese gakuran-style military outfit, golden decorative shoulders and dark brown boots. It made Kiku's pale skin glow like the moon and emphasized his raven-black hair framing his just as dark eyes. Alfred studied him, at a loss for words and for a moment thought that Kiku looked almost as if he was a beautiful painting. He shook his head to shoo the thought away. *How dumb...!*
He decided to fill the awkward silence that has cut it's way between them.
"...Yo, Kiku, you look AWESOME by the way! So cool, you should be carrying a sword, too! Like, a um...samurai whatcha'ma'callit... Oh yeah, a katana!"
Kiku chuckled and gave Alfred a small smile. "I really doubt a classy party like this with people around the globe would allow things like swords, guns or anything capable of harming, Alfred-san."
Mental Face-palm. Smooth, Alfred. Very freaking smooth.
"Oh, true, but..."
"DID I HEAR SOMEONE A MOMENT AGO SAY AWESOME?!"
A painfully familiar german- excuse me, PRUSSIAN- accent filled the two young men's ears. A tall albino man with glowing red eyes and striking white-blonde hair popped out into vision from behind Alfred. He gave a wide and pompous grin as he stretched his arm around Kiku's shoulders, much to Kiku's embarrassment and reluctance.
"You!" He poked Kiku's pale cheeks, "You're a good friend of my little brother! Honda Kiku, ja? Sir Francis Bonnefoy has summoned you!" He exclaimed, waving an arm into the air. Kiku carefully lifted the Prussian's arm off of his shoulders, backing away a few steps.
He bowed politely. "Gilbert Beilschmidt. It's nice to see you again."
"Yeah, you too! Now let me find my little brother."
Gilbert walked exaggeratedly back to the large building, a small bird chirping, settled in his white hair. Kiku found himself trying to hold back a laugh, seeing Gilbert wearing a fitting lederhosen (3) of all things. He did seem to work it, though. Wait, was he doing a catwalk? *Oh... Oh dear, I cant...*
Alfred seemed to notice also, but didn't even try to hold back. He roared his trademark laugh, making Kiku's ears ring, but also managed to make him chuckle too. Alfred suddenly stopped, once Kiku caught his breath.
"Heh, Kiku?"
"Oh, Hai, Alfred-san?"
Alfred's gave a bright grin, Kiku giving one back. His smile was too contagious. There was a moment of silence as Alfred eyes met Kiku's, like he just wanted to spend just a few moments just to observe them. Though Alfred always looks like he's having a good time, he has a strange look of calm happiness during this moment.
"You should loosen up and laugh more often."
"Um, Cher."
"What, git?"
"Well..." Francis mumbled, "Shouldn't you ease up a bit on your alcohol?"
"Oh..." Arthur set the wine back on the table carefully. "...Sorry."
"No matter. Oooh, see that man over there?" Francis muttered in Arthur's ears, knudging his elbow and pointing to a man lounging by the bar, slowly enjoying a glass of whiskey. "He's cute, hmm?"
"No." Arthur responded with s flat and blunt disinterest, "Whiskey. Must be a douche. And who the hell wears gold chained necklaces anymore?"
Francis sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay, now you're just being ridiculous. Every man i've pointed out, you disappove of."
"So? I don't like them. People are too easy to read. And besides, they'll all probably end up being one-night stands are an incredible mistake."
Francis was ready to snap back with a clever insult until he saw a few familiar faces enter the large room. One was tall blonde and blue-eyed, the other was short, copper-haired with a serious curled cowlick. Feliciano waved with one hand as he held tightly onto Ludwig's large hands in the other, tearing through the croud.
"Big brother Francis!"
"Little Feli, Lovi!"
Lovino lagged behind the two men glaring at Ludwig, with the Spanish Antonio glued to his hip.
Francis and Feliciano hugged lovingly, complimenting each other on their wardrobes as Ludwig looked curiously around the incredibly large ballroom. Lovino and Feliciano wore Venitian gondola outfits, Ludwig wore just a suit (probably because he refused to wear lederhosen) and Antonio wore an over-the-top spanish bull-fighting costume, though it did look good on him. Arthur smiled and continued taking smaller sips of wine. The party was going splendidly. Nobody fought. Nobody teased. Nobody judged. Cultures danced with one another, robes and dresses, tan and pale skin mixed together. It was truely something beautiful in itself. Arthur sighed in serene bliss. Is this what world peace would be like: People of every color and culture dancing with one another?
"Oh, cher." Francis whispered in Arthur's ears.
"Hmmmmm...?" Arthur hummed.
"Damn, are you drunk?"
"'Course not! Not yet, at least. Okay, maybe just a little bit..."
"Ah, you're not too bad. If you were completely drunk, nobody would understand you. But anyways, aren't you going to converse with some of our guests? Everyone should be here."
"Oh oh oh oh, yes, of course. Only a true gentleman would spend time with his guests." Arthur abandoned his glass to say hello to the group of familiar faces whom have already arrived. Feliciano and Lovino were remnisizing about their childhood as Ludwig and Antonio closely listened- Antonio jumping in at some point to point out how cute (and incredibly stubborn) Lovino was as a child and something about wearing a maid's outfit.
Francis nearly jumped out of his chair at the sight of a certain Canadian. He strutted his way around the table and wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Matthew squeaked and his cheeks burned red, adjusting his glasses. Arthur smiled at Francis's happy, glowing face at he gazed into Matthew's beautiful violet eyes. They looked... happy. So happy where it would make anyone jealous, but not to the point where it was annoying and stupid. It was beautiful. Arthur still felt a pang of uneasiness, seeing how much Matthew looked like Alfred, and the awkward pain settled and deepened even more, like a damp lingering stench of pure regret. Then he realized that if Mattie was here, so was the American Idiot. Arthur found himself probing left and right to see if the stupid bastard was really here, and nervously sipping on wine again.
"Ai ya, where is my little brother?"
Wang Yao stepped his way to the cheerful group, hands at his hips. He was wearing traditional chinese garb- gold dragons spawled all over his silky red shirt, completely covered in detail. It was very colorful and charming, and Artur was a bit suprised to see that his hair wasn't in a ponytail for once. His straight, dark and shining brown hair draped over his shoulders, and he looked... actually, really beautiful. Francis approached him, Matthew at his hip.
"Quoi, Kiku isn't here yet?"
"Um, actually..." Matthew mumbled. He was hard to hear, but he was loud enough for Francis and Yao to hear, and Arthur to eavesdrop.
"I saw him outside earlier, talking to Alfred. They're probably in here now."
Alfred. Arthur shuddered- And much to his surprise, so did Yao.
"What! That stupid American? I'll find him!"
Yao stomped away back towards the center of the room, face red and hate twisted his face. Maybe that's why Yao is alone, too.
No wait, Arthur didn't think that. He's not alone. Not one bit, dammit!
Kiku stepped though the entrance of the magnificent building, Alfred beside him.
"Oh..."
Kiku gazed all around the large room, taking it all in. Large windows gave sight to a beautiful winter sunset, clouds covering everything but the vast horizon. A large chandelier livened the room, bright and cheery along with flickering candles at every tableclothed table with detailed silverwear, porcelain plates, decorative centerpeices and crystal clear wine glasses. A dimmer bar stood at the back with a girly-looking blonde bartender, in an exhilerating conversation with a young man with medium-length brown hair, slightly drunk and looked a little nervous. A skilled band played a jazz song to the left on a large stage, with a dark headed man singing a happy love song. Men and women danced together and side-by-side, some laughing, some talking and some just gazing into each other's eyes. Some were black, some were white, some were asian and some were Hispanic. What the rest of Kiku's breath blow away was seeing Alfred, staring into the croud with just as much awe as him.
Suddenly Alfred grasped Kiku's hand, lifting it up with both hands and gazed his eyes at his own- dark brown, almost black, meeting sparkling and intense blue.
"Kiku," Alfred started pulling Kiku along into the crowd of dancing couples, "Dance with me!"
"Ah- Alfred-san! You do realize that in my country we don't..."
"OH, stop with the modesty stuff and just relax. Please? Just one dance?" Eventually they made their way to the center of the dance floor, people twisting and turning around them to the beat. After staring intensely at Alfred for what seemed like forever, he evetually gave in. There's no way to change his mind...
"Um... Alright, then."
Alfred laughed in joy, resting his hand on Kiku's waist, holding the asian's hand in his larger one.
Kiku jumped at the sudden contact, but managed to push the though away. What really peeved him was that he had to play the wemon's part. He didn't bother saying anything, fearing that he will upset the American, and danced along anyway. Eventually the managed to talk, and then it grew to just stealing glances and chuckling together. Alfred's laugh became soft, quiet, and made Kiku smile so much that he didn't stop. He music was alluring, and Kiku's eyes closed and tightened the grip on the American's hand. Eventually the song ended, and the croud dispersed back to the tables for a break to drink or talk to more friends and new aquaintances.
"Um, Alfred-san..." Kiku mumbled as they were one of the last ones on the floor, blushing as people started to stare at the two young men. "We should probably meet up with the others now."
"Yeah, we should."
Kiku felt a tad bit bad for letting go of Alfred's shoulder, afraid that he'd be upset that they had to stop. But instead, happiness was regained when Alfred have a wide grin of accomplishment stretch across his face.
"Let's go. I'm guessing they're toward the back somewhere."
The music hummed in Arthur's ears, causing him to hum aimlessly along with it. He didn't know a single word to this song, but damn, it sure was catchy. He rested the wine glass back down carefully on the cream tablecloth, making sure he doesn't drink too much too fast. He continued his search of the croud for Alfred. Arthur wasn't sure it he wanted to see the American trip and fall on his face, or walk up to him to ask him to dance. Maybe he just wanted to see him, but what would he do? Would Arthur refrain from talking to him? Would he try to patch up their relationship, try to be friends with Alfred, or insult him the whole time? All of those options seemed ridiculous besides the last one. Insults it is, then, once he shows his stupid damn face. Where the hell is that bloody git?
Just as he asked himself that question, something else entirely erased Alfred out of Arhtur's troubled mind. It lasted just for a few moments. Arthur cought sight of short dark hair and pale skin as bright as the moon, dark shining eyes and a small smile enter his vision. Arthur lost his breath and watched the stranger, dancing to the beat of the music, cheeks a faint rosy red, who wore an almost completely black and gold outfit. They stuck out among the bright colored and patterned cloth dancing and swirling around him and his dance partner. The stranger was shorter and skinnier than their partner. Arthur couldnt tell by the distance if the person was a male or female, but knew that they were asian.
And they were beautiful.
Arthur couldn't make out who their dance partner was, and didn't care; He was incredibly jealous of the man. How did they get someone as beautiful as that to dance with them? Were the two together? What is that beautiful person like? Who are they?
Arthur watched with his eyes glued on the couple, not daring to look away for one moment- Afraid that he might loose them and may never lay eyes on the beautiful stranger again. And much to his relief, the music softened and came to an end, and the surrounding dancers disappeared from the dance floor, leaving the couple completely isolated. The two talked for a moment and eventually let go of each other. Good.
Arthur's anxiety creeped back and his jaw completely dropped, catching Francis's attention. He asked Arthur if he was all right, but Arthur ignored him, too shocked with what he sees to hear the frenchman.
First, the person and the man looked around for a moment, before heading towards Arthur and the gang's direction, so they knew them. Next, the person Arthur was staring at is a man, and he is probably the most beautiful thing Arthur has ever seen in his life. And last, the man he was dancing with is the last person he expected. Arthur's heart breaker, former best friend, and incredibly handsome Alfred Jones.
Arthur's face burned in anger and jealousy. He didn't know what to do- how to act, what to say, who to greet. Eventually the japanese man and Alfred made their way to the table, greeting those who knew them Arthur heard Feliciano squeal and watched him hug the japanese man. Feliciano knows him? The asian was nervous and jumped at the sudden contact, blushing.
"KIKUUU! YOU CAME!"
"Ah, Feli, please..."
After a moment of staring at the asian, Arthur's mind flash backed to the limosine, when Francis was listing the people who came.
"You remember our dear friend Yao Wang, yes? It's been awhile. But I managed to get him to bring him his younger half-brother, Kiku Honda along."
"He's a quiet one..."
"Hey, Frog." Arthur tapped Francis's shoulder for a moment to detach his attention from Matthew.
"Hmm? Is there a problem, cher?"
"That's Kiku, yes?"
Arthur pointed to the attractive young man. He was listening to Feliciano and Ludwig talking about something about an accident while cooking pasta, and something about burning wurst.
"Oh, the dark haired one? Oui." Francis looked curiously at Kiku and Arthur, a few times before a dangerous smirk stretched across his lips. Arthur took notice, and quickly responded. A bit too quickly.
"W-w-what, you git?"
"Kiku Honda."
"What about him?"
"You fancy him, no?"
This time Arthur responded slowly. Much too slowly.
"'Course not."
"Ah ha! Go, greet him, woo him, show some l'amour! Be careful though, Yao may get mad!"
"Lemme' go, you git! I dont need to you be my mother!"
"Go on, cher, sweetie!"
"SHUT UP!"
Arthur stood hesitantly and stepped his way towards Kiku, heart pounding furiously. He tried with all of his strength to swallow the frog in his throat, but no dice. He felt ridiculous, like some small schoolboy. Music started playing. It was his chance. Alfred stood right next to Kiku, but Arthur dared not even to look him in the eye. He was going to Kiku, and Kiku only. Kiku is going to be his.
"Um, hello. Kiku Honda, yes?"
"Y-yes. I'm please to meet you." Kiku bowed politely, his hands in front of him. Kiku observed the man. He was also in an army outfit, and like his, it was also all black. He had messy blonde hair, and brilliant green eyes... not to mention a pair of incredibly impressive eyebrows. He didn't seem to be much older than Kiku, and only a tad bit taller than him, unlike Alfred whom towered over Kiku. He looked very stern and strict at first before taking a breath- he then bowed back, and reached out his hand as he stood straight again, with a smile on his face. He was incredibly handsome.
"Good evening. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I'm one of the hosts of the party. Would you care for a dance?"
"Um... I don't know, I..."
Arthur drew his hand back a bit at Kiku's hesitance, with his grin now a bit saddened. He's going to say no...
Kiku stole a glance towards his friends beside him. Feliciano was smiling happily, and gave Kiku a hopeful look.
You can't be alone forever.
"...Yes. Yes, let's dance."
I swear to god I worked SO hard on this chapter. ; 7 ; I have so much fun writing Alfred. Maybe because we have incredibly similar personalities. I hate it when people make him (or really, any character) OOC, so if you see any of that, TELL ME. I want to get better!
Summer is almost here! Just a couple more days of school, and i'm out, dudes! That means, more art and more time to write! Woo hoo!
"Storymaking 101- if there is a rival character, it helps to make it seem like they are better than the main character in almost every way. It's much more satisfying to surpass someone you never thought you could!"